Snakes in a Wigwam
by MidgeGuinn
Summary: This is a Snakes on a Plane fanfic, but there wasn't a category for that. We put it here because of Mace Windu. The passionate steamy story of Samuel L. Jackson and his adventures in a wigwam. With 3 OCs! lol! Slash to the max! And snakes!


**Snakes in a Wigwam**

By Counterpart and Midge P. Guinn

So that's how it all began. Oh, I'm sorry, did you just come in?

Well, I'm not going to explain it to you. You should have been on

time.

Anyway, after the incident with the snakes on the plane,

Alphonse was very intrigued.

He decided that it would be a good idea after all to seek

Samuel L. Jackson himself.

But where to begin?

To the wigwam!

The chief was already upset. He thought his daughter would

marry the taller guy, but she just had to have her goulash-man.

They tried to warn him a long time ago that this might

happen. They warned him a lot. To no avail! He was as blind as he

was…crooked. (If you know what I mean!) With three good legs and a

handkerchief.

Although he was an honest kind of goulash-man, he wasn't the

sort that any self-respecting chief would want his only daughter to

marry.

And that is why he was upset when Alphonse came to him,

inquiring about a certain Samuel L. Jackson.

"Who goes there?"

"It is I. Alphonse. I come bearing gifts of turnips and

goulash."

"Goulash!" the chief cried, distraught. "Never speak of

goulash in this wigwam!"

After a distinguished pause, Alphonse then added, "And I

brought Snausages. For your wigwam beasts."

At this, the four beasts looked up, and salivated at the

stranger. But they were not hungry for Snausages. They wanted to

eat dear Alphonse!

Now, friends, do not be afraid for our hero! He will come to

no harm within this chapter, I assure you. Now, to continue the

story….

Chapter 2

Before he could react, Poor Alphonse was launched into the

wall of the wigwam. The wigwam beasts paused in confusion, for this

had not been their doing.

The chief was chuckling. Alphonse appeared angry. The beasts

would have blogged, but they hadn't learned that yet.

"Oh, silly you," said the chief. "Wigwam beasts don't eat

Snausages! Only… the FLESH OF AN ARROGANT INQUISITOR!"

"I am no Inquisitor!" Alphonse proclaimed blasphemously.

"Indeed, you rather seem to be," the chief taunted

laboriously.

Just then, the goulash-man entered the festive wigwam. He

surveyed the scene, then took a sip of the gift goulash Alphonse had

generously brought. The chief turned red with anger.

"Just who do you think you are! From now on, your name is

GOULASH!" screamed the chief.

"Don't you mean 'his name is mud'?" Alphonse asked.

"NO." The word was final.

"I bet you wanna know why I came here, don't you," teased the

Goulash.

"Yes, we do," said Alphonse.

"WELL, I was just coming back from a very important

discussion. And we have decided that Sammy J. shall come to stay in

THIS VERY WIGWAM!"

There was the sound of applause, but none could tell where it

was coming from.

Alphonse started to cry. "I've always wanted to meet Mr.

Jackson!" he said contentedly. "He is so very…attractive. And

shiny." Alphonse's sentiment was met with unhappy glances about the

wigwam. No one knew how to respond, as they too had secret crushes

on Samuel L. Jackson, but refused to admit it. Alphonse had taken on

an expression of dreamy glee, much like that of a young girl catching

sight of a Hatake Kakashi cosplayer. Only he wasn't going to glomp

anybody.

Yet.

Chapter 3

Samuel L. Jackson arrived in a poof of children. The children

separated and scattered about the wigwam, unsettled. As the children

scampered, Sammy J. removed his hat and hung it on the courtesy

wigwam coat rack. His now revealed head shined with holy light.

Alphonse fainted with happiness.

The chief looked away, unable to endure the blinding rays

emanating from the head of the Reverend St. Samuel Lloyd Jackson. Or…

Livingston. Lamprey. Longgorth. Legroom. Lawrenstein.

Loganklarschtenhaggenfleimer. Or…Long-johns.

Alphonse quickly recovered from his spell of illness and

shuffled into the light radius that was Samuel Jackson. Jackson

looked down at Alphonse with a knowing expression (cuz u just KNOW

Sammy would be taller than him lol), and Alphonse fainted again. And

recovered. Um. Again.

"When will I see you again?" Alphonse murmured to the

impressive sexy figure.

"When you learn to thwart mob leaders and their snakes, my

son." With this, Jackson turned and shook his thang. "See?" he

said. "Like this!"

And sure enough, every mob leader and snake in the area dove

into the sea and was never seen again.

Lemon Interlude

(Bet you wanna know, dontcha?)

End of Lemon Interlude

They returned to the wigwam, covered in tomato juice. Yes.

Oh yes.

At first, Alphonse had been disappointed. He didn't think

Samuel Jackson would have forgotten his Insta-Pasta Maker, but they

both decided to make the best of it.

The chief was polite enough not to say anything when he saw

them, but the Goulash snickered.

Chapter 4

Then it all went to hell in a hand basket.

No, seriously. They were all picked up by an unseen hand,

placed not gently into a giant hand basket, and lowered into the

depths of Hell.

The four wigwam beasts sniffed about curiously, licking

themselves in an un-ladylike manner as they went. Alphonse looked

away, feeling guilty.

He knew exactly why he was there, and why Sam, his "friend",

was with him, but he was unsure as to why the Goulash and the chief

were with him, as well.

Goulash knew. The chief knew. They, too, exchanged wary

glances full of meaning.

Then, each of the four beasts walked over to each of the

four "companions".

Alphonse timidly reached for the paw of his beast and the two

of them danced. Catching on, the others also danced. Lucifer heard

the ruckus and came up to see.

"What's the whereabouts then where what?" he asked, as he

always did.

"We…we're…" Alphonse began.

"In Hell dancing with wigwam beasts because we were very

_naughty_ men," Goulash explained mischievously

All four of the men giggled.

Even Samuel L. Jackson.

"You're in luck, boys," Satan said. "We have four of them.

Four of them free each day, at least."

The chief's daughter never wondered where her beloved Goulash

had gone. She already knew.


End file.
